


Love Potion #6

by liodain



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Desk Sex, Fingering After Fucking, Humor, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wanton Destruction of Mission Reports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 02:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liodain/pseuds/liodain
Summary: The results of goblin ingenuity are seldom predictable—except once in an unfortunate while, when they're exactly what Shaw would expect.





	Love Potion #6

Captain Fairwind came barrelling into Shaw's cabin on the _Wind's Redemption_ without so much as a rap on the door, and immediately exceeded his usual baseline coarseness by dropping a damp pouch with strange-smelling contents onto his desk. Shaw salvaged his intelligence reports from beneath it, carefully placed his pen next to its inkwell, sat back in his chair, and pictured a calm ocean.

"Can I help you," he said.

Fairwind leant over and tapped Shaw's desk, next to his odiferous delivery. "Shandy said I should give you this." 

Apparently it was going to be one of those days. Shaw drew a dagger and teased the pouch open with the tip of the blade. A fine powder glittered inside. "And did General Shandris tell you why?" 

Fairwind shrugged elaborately, staggering when his hand slid from the edge of the desk. "Wait, no," he said. "Yes. She did."

Light, it was barely mid-afternoon. Shaw scooped the pouch into a drawer and sheathed his dagger for both their sakes. Marshalling his patience further, he asked, "Are you drunk, Fairwind?"

"Me? No," Fairwind frowned and began to untie the kerchief around his neck. "I don't think so. Stuff to do today. Anyway, Shand—Shandris said it's ground-up azerite cut with something that might be poison. And that you're pretty handy with poisons, so figure it out."

"Hmph." A suspicion crystallised in the back of Shaw's mind. "Did you touch it at all?"

"Got a little bit on my hands when I grabbed it. Tasted fizzy, if that helps narrow it down." He paused halfway through shrugging off his duster. "It's not good that I know that."

"You're right. It isn't." Shaw watched in consternation as Fairwind's swordbelt and cutlasses clattered to the boards. "Where were you deployed when this happened? And—please stop disrobing in my quarters."

"Supposed to be heading out to Jorundall, but we ran into a barge full of goblins on the way. Say, is it just me or is it hotter than usual in here?"

Goblins. Shaw put his elbows on his desk and his face in his hands and tiredly pressed his fingers to his eyelids until he saw fractals. Trade Prince Gallywix didn't get where he was by passing up on business opportunities; that he'd rolled out pleasure cruises and all their attendant… revelries in the island chains around Kul Tiras and Zandalar was no great surprise. At at guess, Shaw would say he'd cut what would inevitably be one of his 'love concoctions' with azerite dust. It was hugely tasteless but essentially harmless, and up until a moment ago would've been none of Shaw's concern, much less his problem.

When he looked back up, contrary to his very reasonable request, Fairwind had taken his shirt off. He was sweating substantially. "What's the verdict," he said, and swallowed hard.

His throat bobbed. A drop of perspiration trickled down it and onto his collarbone. Shaw flattened his hands firmly on his desk. 

"You've taken a hit of an aphrodisiac," he said to his stack of reports and their hopelessly smudged ink. "That's all. Go into town and blow off some steam." 

It would do, in the absence of any other immediate solution. At least the strange euphoria azerite imparted should ensure he'd have a good time. Shaw stared at his fingertips turning pale against his desk and tried not to think any further on it. 

"Huh." Fairwind was evidently relieved, but instead of being dismissed, he and his broad shoulders and bare chest circumvented Shaw's desk. "I don't really fancy that, if I'm honest," he said, his voice soft at the edges, more indolent than slurred. "Are you busy right now?"

Shaw raised a finger. "No," he said, in an attempt to summarise his thoughts on the situation, but before he could clarify Fairwind cupped the nape of his neck with one strong, and somewhat clammy, hand.

"Good," he said, tipped Shaw back in his chair, and kissed him. It was an unabashedly thorough kiss, and probably would have been engrossing even for someone who hadn't been married to his work for the best part of two decades. As it was, the sound Shaw heard himself make was mortifying.

He collected himself as best he could with Fairwind grinning at him like the cat that got the cream. "Captain," he said. "You're not in your right mind."

"Aren't I? Well—I'm a little bit stoned, apparently, and lot horny, so no worse than most days and better than some." Fairwind dipped a hand beneath his waistband. "What do you say? Wanna help me work this off?"

Shaw hesitated. His libido snarled viciously. Belatedly, he realised he had been gripping Fairwind's left pectoral since they'd kissed and throughout the subsequent exchange, and wondered if there was any way to let go without drawing attention to the fact. He could feel Fairwind's nipple against his palm. He sensed things were swiftly heading toward a crisis point.

"You definitely _look_ like you want to fuck me til I cry," Fairwind said brightly.

That would be it. Shaw's chair clattered to the floor as he stood, grabbed Fairwind's wrist, twisted his arm up his back and slammed him bodily onto the desk, mission reports be damned. He went over easily and with a bray of laughter, straining against Shaw's grip until he let up and could sprawl onto his back and scatter the remaining paperwork asunder. He didn't even spare Shaw an apology before taking his hand and pressing it over the significant bulge in his breeches. 

"If you break my desk—" Shaw thought longingly of his writing table in the Stormwind barracks, which was sturdy enough to handle all kinds of punishment. He was less optimistic about this one. Already it was creaking as he worked Fairwind's breeches over his hips and off, wherein he discovered there was some substance to Fairwind's swagger after all.

"There's always the floor if it comes to it." Fairwind's fingers caught at the lacing and straps of Shaw's uniform, skittered over the tooled leather and tugged at his belt instead. "Why do you wear such difficult armour." 

"It's regulation."

"Yeah, _your_ regulations. Seriously, why."

"To keep ne'er-do-wells at bay," Shaw said dryly, unbuckling his belt himself since Fairwind was obviously incapable. He spread Fairwind's legs with a hand on the inside of one heavy thigh. His cock was reddened and desperately stiff, jerking against the soft rise of his stomach each time Shaw touched him. Shaw couldn't say he was looking much better when he unbuttoned and freed himself.

Fairwind hooked the back of his thigh with his heel, grinning. "And how's that working out for you."

"Poorly." 

He had some concern that spit and a prayer might be inadequate, but Fairwind was relaxed, to put it lightly. Shaw slid into him easily and so completely that it stole his breath. He half-slumped over Fairwind's stout chest, his forehead resting against his shoulder, and was suffused with a worrying sense of relief. Meanwhile, Fairwind put his hands everywhere he could, shamelessly revelling in the situation. 

Eventually he petted Shaw's hair and asked, "How's it going there?"

"Fine," Shaw said. Then, in the spirit of some disclosure, added, "It's… been a while." 

"Never would have guessed." Fairwind nudged him with his foot. "I definitely hadn't got that impression. No clues for me to pick up on at all."

"Don't ruin this by talking."

"How else am I supposed to ruin it?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something." 

Shaw threw his weight onto his hands and rolled his hips, which shut Fairwind up for a moment at least. The desk complained as he established a rhythm, its legs dragging against the floor, and two things quickly became apparent to him. Firstly, when Fairwind wasn't being quiet he was very, very loud, and secondly, that wasn't going to be a problem for long. His thighs were already trembling, his heart racing.

"Hey," Fairwind slipped in between his enthusiastic moaning, tightening his legs around Shaw's waist. "Shaw. Gimme a kiss." He curled his shoulders up off the desk, which teetered alarmingly, and Shaw decided to meet him halfway for once, openmouthed and with the intent to press an advantage. 

One that was immediately lost when Fairwind took a fistful of his hair and pulled. A guttural noise escaped Shaw's throat. 

"Nice," Fairwind said into Shaw's mouth, and did it again. "Thought you might like that. Are you going to come already?"

"No," Shaw said, and then did anyway, Fairwind alternating between feeding him warm slack kisses and crooning filth into his ear, until Shaw managed to regain a shred of his composure if not his self-respect. He inched himself out, distantly noted the wet smear he'd left on Fairwind's thigh, and made a cursory attempt at tidying himself up.

"Done, are you?" Fairwind said, spread lax across the desk and still unavoidably hard, a crumpled report under his elbow. "All right for some, isn't it."

"Your own fault," Shaw said, curt. "Hope it was worth it."

Fairwind snorted a laugh and then reached for his cock. Shaw caught his wrist before he could touch himself, which seemed to surprise Fairwind as much as it did him. "Guess I'm about to find out," he said, and broke into laughter, then a groan, as Shaw pressed a finger inside him.

"We're going to do this quietly, and efficiently," Shaw said, pinning Fairwind's wrist down. He was slick, pliant. Shaw got a second finger into him with ease. "Understood, Captain?"

"You didn't even mean that to be hot, did you," Fairwind said dreamily.

He let his head loll back onto the desk, and his free hand came to rest on Shaw's forearm. His thighs tensed and relaxed and he sighed gustily as Shaw turned his hand and withdrew his fingers slowly, the going made slippery with his own come—something he had anticipated, but not an experience he was altogether prepared for. He swallowed, and slid them back into Fairwind again, crooking them until he found the spot that made his breath catch and shudder. This also had the appealing side benefit of wiping the grin off his face. His eyes had fallen shut, intense concentration creasing his brow. It was the most peace Shaw expected to have today.

His shudders increased in intensity as Shaw worked. His muscles were clenching more than not, and Shaw could feel his heartbeat rioting against his fingertips. His face was flushed, his mouth hanging open. Shaw rocked his fingers into him twice more, and then stopped.

"Oh, no no no, Shaw," Fairwind gasped, "come on."

"Don't do this again, or next time there _will_ be tears."

"Promise?"

Shaw withdrew his fingers entirely. "I mean it, Flynn."

"Okay, yep, I promise." Fairwind sketched a hasty salute that was more him smacking himself on the forehead. Shaw obliged him anyway, firmly jerking his cock until he lifted his hips, arched his back and came spectacularly over his chest and stomach, and Shaw's fingers. 

Shaw lifted his hand to his mouth, and in an almost ritualistic sacrifice of his remaining dignity, licked it.

For a moment Fairwind looked as though he were about to do them both a favour and ascend to another plane of existence, but then he pulled himself upright and slapped his hands to his bare thighs. "Whew!" he said. "That's better. Really cleared my head."

Shaw eyed him dubiously. "Are you certain about that?"

"Well, if you're not convinced, we could go again."

Shaw considered reminding Fairwind that he had more than a few years on him and so as far as he was concerned nothing of the sort would be happening, but he assumed that would only open him up to new avenues of torment. He shook his head and instead began to collect the sorry remnants of his morning's work.

"What am I going to do about you," he said.

"I have a few ideas, if you'll hear me out."

"About you," Shaw said. "Not with you." He rescued some paperwork from Fairwind's hands before he could use it to blot himself dry.

"Tomato, tomato," Fairwind said, with no discernible variance in pronunciation. He hopped off the desk and managed to pull most of his clothes back on, then abruptly steadied himself on its corner. "Okay, whoa. Feeling a bit—" He made a see-saw motion with his hand. "Do you mind if I…?"

Shaw tipped his head in the direction of his berth. "Boots off, if you please."

"Cheers, mate." Fairwind staggered over to the bed and collapsed onto it prone, arm dangling over the side. He kicked his boots off after the fact. Shaw supposed it was as much as he could hope for.

He pulled his chair up to his desk and dipped his pen. He had a lot of missives to rewrite, and it would also be prudent to document the substance's properties while it was fresh on his mind, give or take some of the more lurid details. He put his hand to his forehead for a moment.

"What're you doing," Fairwind said, muffled by Shaw's pillow. 

"Retreading approximately a third of what I already did today."

"Look, you threw me over the desk so technically that's your fault."

"I'd be careful about pointing fingers if I were you," Shaw said without looking up. His pen glided across a fresh leaf of paper. "I need to know as much as possible about that powder. How clear is your memory?"

"Clear enough. Though I'm pretty sure I already gave you a thorough debriefing."

Shaw sighed, and face down on the bed, Fairwind laughed giddily.

***

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is my 100th work on AO3? No regrets. Originally posted anon [here](https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/366452.html?thread=2138470772#cmt2138470772), making use of unused Smut Swap freeform tags.


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